Parisian Life
by C.K. degu
Summary: To all you Sandle fans out there, this is the story for you, with NickOC too. Set in Season Five, this is the story of how Greg and Sara got together. Read and Review? :D
1. Chapter 1

Sara plopped down on a couch in the break room. Grissom had just given her the empathy speech, the one where she gets too emotionally involved in a case, and Grissom's solution was for her to get a distraction.

In other words, he anted her to get a life.

But what he didn't know was that she used to have a life.

That is, until it hauled ass to Paris.

Sara sighed. If only she hadn't left, she wouldn't even be here.

"Hey, 'Rick, check this out!" Nick called, "Greggo's got a girl!"

Warrick stood behind Greg, who was trying (and miserably failing) to cover the laptop screen.

"Oooh, a girl from Paris," Warrick remarked, "Charmer."

"It's not like that!" Greg exclaimed, "She's a friend."  
The two other CSIs scoffed.

"I went out with her a few summers ago, and we just kept close contact," he explained.

"How come she calls you _merdé_?" Nick asked, his Texan drawl mixing terribly with a feigned French accent.

"Nick, _merdé_ means shit in French," Greg said, speaking with full honesty. Then Catherine came to collect Warrick and Nick to start shift.

After sending the e-mail, Greg put away his laptop and got called into Grissom's office five minutes before shift ended.

"Greg," said Grissom, "Mia's going on a vacation."  
"Aww," Greg said almost at once "do I have to fill in for her?"  
He was complaining like a little kid. But he had to. He didn't pass his proficiency tests just to be back at the lab.

"I didn't say that," said Gil argued, "I actually wanted to give you the task of finding someone to fill in for her."  
"Oh! Cool. How soon do you want her in?"

"It doesn't really have to be a she, Greg," Grissom reminded him.

"Yes it does," Greg answered, "I'll see you tomorrow, boss."

Then he walked out of his office after promising a replacement by Monday.

And his recent e-mail just gave him an idea who to ask.

If there was anything in the lab that Catherine disliked, it was Conrad Ecklie. She, of course would not show this easily. It was all about politics, who you put up with, no matter how big an asshole they are.

No matter how big.

This was why she was sitting complacently on a chair before him, managing a slight smile.

"Swing shift is short of help," he was saying, "cases are moving slow, piling up, unlike Graveyard."

"Graveyard has Sophia Curtis," Catherine pointed out.

"Yes they do," Conrad was smiling a little, "Which is why I assigned a new CSI to your team."

"What?" Catherine asked, exasperated.  
"She's flying in from Paris," he continued, "she'll make a fine addition to the team."  
Catherine didn't want this. She was just easing into being a Supervisor. She had no time to welcome a new CSI.

"You'll want to pick her up tomorrow night at eight at the airport."  
"I'll have the boys do it," said Catherine, standing up.

"No, you do it," said Ecklie, smirking.

Catherine honestly felt like someone had just made fun of her. She had just walked out of the office when she ran into Gil.

"Ecklie messing with you?" he asked her.

"More like screwing me with my pants on," she replied, turning to a corner to find Nick and Warrick.

Greg was about to go to his locker when he spotted Sara, sitting there, the faint sunlight illuminating her brown hair, making her look attractive.

Not that she didn't almost everyday.

She looked a little sadder than usual, so Greg went over.

"You okay?" he asked, standing beside her as she stared into her open locker.

"Have I told you about home?" she asked him.

"Well, no," said Greg. As far as he knew, which was on a borderline level, Sara hardly shared things like these, so this was a rare opportunity.

"I lived in Tamales Bay, somewhere near to San Francisco. I had this friend. She and I used to do everything together, until I had to start moving around foster homes. Did you know that I moved from home to home, Greg?"  
Greg shook his head; He had never seen this side of Sara before. Her sharing, sentimental side and he liked it.

"Well, I did, and I didn't see my friend until I worked at San Francisco PD. We reunited and we worked together everyday as best friends. She was my distraction from the bodies. She kept me from getting too emotionally attached."

"What happened?" Greg asked. He found himself hanging onto every word she said.

"She got transferred to Paris, and Grissom invited me to work here. Paris was her dream place, and I couldn't refuse Grissom, so we separated. Then I started…feeling too much."

"You never talked to your friend again?" Greg asked.

"No. We lost contact years ago."

She looked so sad; Greg wanted to just hold her, which he of course, couldn't do. He instead asks why she was suddenly thinking of her friend.

"Grissom gave me the attachment speech," she said, "after I chewed the head off a suspect in a murder of a mother and her baby. Her husband, the guy I yelled at, was found guilty of abusing his wife, but got away with murder. And I worked so hard on that case!" She exclaimed to Greg, who instantly found he was wrapping his arms around her. Her shoulders were shaking.

He never saw Sara cry before

They were quiet for a moment when Greg asked Sara a question.

"What did she do?" Greg asked her.

"What?" Sara asked, looking up at him.

"When you found yourself too attached, what did your friend do?" he asked her. Sara thought for a moment.

"She would bring me to tourist spots," said Sara, "Fisherman's Wharf and The Golden Gate Bridge….just to have fun."

It was a bit strange imagining Sara having fun with another woman, but Greg pushed that thought away from his mind.

"Come on," he said, standing up.

"Why?" Sara asked.

"We're going to Circus Circus," said Greg, extending out a hand for her. Sara smiled a little and accepted the invitation.

Later that evening…

_Cher MacBeth de Dame,_

_Comment vous vous sentiriez de venir à Vegas pour travailler pour quelques semaines ? Nous sommes à court de l'aide dans le laboratoire d'ADN, et j'aimerais vous voir encore. Répondre dès que possible. _

_MacDuff_


	2. Chapter 2

When Greg finally got to the gate, he felt a little flat. Airports turned out to be more crowded than he thought, and the flight he was waiting for wasn't coming in fifteen minutes.

Greg decided to hang around and wait. After all, shift wasn't going to start in about, oh, just six hours. He had a lot of time in his hands.

He thought about Circus Circus with Sara a few days ago. He was proud to say that they had a lot of fun, playing arcade games, watching a few acrobatic acts them heading to the Adventuredome for a few thrilling rides. Actually, the image of Sara laughing as they splashed down that water ride had stuck with him until today, and he couldn't get it out of his head. He and Sara had taken to having short chats at least once a day, which they both really enjoyed.

Almost everyone, including Sara, knew of his crush on her, and he wondered if this was why he wanted to be around her all the time. He was about to contemplate asking Sara out to a date somewhere beyond Circus Circus and the Excalibur Arcade when his phone rang.

"Sanders," he said, just getting used to using a policeman-like tone when answering the phone, like the other CSI did.

"Greg?"

Sara. Why was she calling him?

"Yeah?" he asked with what he hoped was a casual tone.

"How do you feel about the Cheesecake Factory?"

That was a strange question.

"I like it there. Why?" He asked intriguingly.

"I was supposed to meet my brother there, but he cancelled on me, and now I'm left with a reservation there in a couple of hours. Wanna come? I'm paying. "

Was she asking him out on a date? This was surprising.

"Sure. I'll meet you there. The Venetian, right?"

"Yup, bye."

Pretty soon, people started filing out of the gate, almost all of the speaking rapid French. Then she appeared. Like something out of a magazine, Gabrielle Delacour stepped into the airport like she's been there her whole life. Her hair was straight, dead straight now, but still as dark and shiny as it used to. Her body still tall and willowy and her skin was porcelain, delicate in every way. Greg's back was facing her when she arrived; so she snuck up on him and said,

"Macduff, I see your hair is still a mess."

Greg turned and saw Gabrielle. He broke into a smile.

"C'mere," he said, giving her a hug. The he gave her the flowers in his hand.

"So, Mr. Big shot CSI, where to?" Gabrielle asked, sniffing the flowers. Her voice was minus a French accent, strangely enough.

"Your hotel, duh," said Greg, taking her bags from her, loading it into his black BMW.

"I didn't know you still had this," she said, before stepping into the car.

"It's a BMW Gabbie. I can get at least ten years more with this bad boy."

They both got into the car and within moments, they were entering Las Vegas Boulevard. Greg was pointing out the famous casinos, when they entered the Bellagio, which was right across Paris hotel.

"I figured you didn't want to be too far away from home," said Greg as he let the bellhop take Gabrielle's bags.

"I'll let you adjust your body clock for a few hours, and I'll pick you up for work at eight, okay?"  
Gabrielle nodded and kissed Greg's cheek.

"It's good to see you again, Greggie," she said.

"You too, Lady MacBeth," he replied, smiling, "I'll see you tonight."

Then he got back into his car and drove off, leaving her to go inside to check into the luxurious hotel, where Greg had reserved a room for her.

Catherine, Nick and Warrick were called out to a crime scene, the body of a wealthy businessman was found sitting on a bench outside the Forum, dressed in poor man's clothes and an apple stuck on its mouth. They had just begun to process evidence when Catherine's cellphone rang.

"Willows," she said, blowing away a loose strand of strawberry blonde hair.

"You're not at the airport," came the voice of Ecklie, "get your butt there NOW."

Catherine never thought she would hear the word 'butt' from Ecklie in this lifetime.

"I forgot all about that, sorry," she apologized, "I'm right on it."

Without letting him say anything more, Catherine terminated the connection and called Warrick and asked him to pick up the CSI from the airport. Warrick, being a good guy, of course, said yes, and went.

"Wipe that look off your face, Stokes," Catherine said to the Texan. She knew that Nick knew what Ecklie had told her to do, and found this funny. Catherine of course, made him stop. Then she went back to her crime scene.

Sara spotted Greg sitting on their table, dressed in a white, striped button down shirt and loose jeans with a pair of Chucks on his feet. His hair was messier than usual, but it suited him.

"Hey," he said as she sat down, "I already ordered, if you don't mind."

She was wearing her usual clothes, a dark, long sleeved shirt, brown pants and a jacket.

Still, she looked good.  
"It's okay," she replied, browsing the menu, "I wonder what I ordered last time…"

"You can't order the same thing you ate the last time you were here," Greg argued.

"Why not?" Sara asked, looking up from her menu.

"Where's your sense of adventure, girl?" Greg asked her.

"I think I left it at the top of that roller coaster ride at the Adventuredome," Sara told him, smiling a little before looking back at the menu.

"Forget it, I'm ordering for you," said Greg, pulling the menu from her hands.

"Hey!" Sara exclaimed, but she was secretly pleased that he was going to order for her.

After Greg ordered, she gave him a look.

"I promise it'll be good," he told her.

"It better be," Sara told him with a smile.

"So…." Said Greg, "What do you want to do after this?"

Sara shrugged.

"It's your turn to pick," she informed him. Indeed, it was his turn, as they both decided to take turns in who decides to go where. They have been hanging out a lot lately.

"Ever ridden on that New York New York rollercoaster?" Greg asked her.

"Hank wanted to take me once," Sara recalled, "we never went."

"Well, I'm taking you, no arguments," said Greg.

Warrick stepped into the airport searching for the right gate. Once he found it, he waited. Crap. He didn't know who he was picking up. He quickly called Catherine.

"Who exactly is this Paris CSI person I'm picking up?" Warrick asked to the phone.

"I think you can hang that up now," said a voice behind him. He turned and saw her illuminating in the Las Vegas sun. Her peaches and cream face was sun kissed, and her brown hair was all bouncy and glossy. She was slender, dressed in white spaghetti straps, army green Capri pants and flip flops. Her bright green almond shaped eyes looked directly at him, her thin, glossed lips in a shrewd smile.

She was endearing.

"I'm assuming you're from the Crime Lab," she told him, showing no hint of a French inflection.

"Yeah, Warrick Brown, nice to meet you," he said, shaking hands with the brunette.

"Marie Andrews," she said, smiling," nice to meet you too, Mr. Brown."

"Pleasure is all mine, Miss Andrews. Please, call me Warrick."  
"Only if you call me Marie," she replied, smiling at Warrick, who took her bags and loaded them into the Tahoe.

"Which hotel are you staying at?" Warrick asked as they got into the Tahoe.

"Don't you think we should head to the lab first?" she asked Warrick as he started the engine.

"Okay, your call," said Warrick starting the drive to Westfall.

They haven't gone long when they found themselves in an animated conversation about jazz, talking about the greats, their favorite artists, albums and tunes.

Then they reached the lab, where Warrick escorted Marie to Catherine's office.

"I'll catch you later, girl," Warrick said, sauntering away.

"You too, Warrick," she replied before entering Catherine's office. She wasn't sure why, but she was feeling a little bit scared.

But the office was empty. Marie decided to wait.

"That was fun!" Sara exclaimed, getting off the ride, "can we do it again?"

"NO!" Greg yelled, "I mean, um… we just ate those cheesecakes, Sara, we could get appendicitis or something if we're not careful."

"Right," said Sara, obviously not believing him. She knew Greg had gotten frightened, and if truth be told, she got a little anxious too.

"Come on," she told him, "because you were so brave, I'm buying you a candy apple."

Nobody has ever seen this side of her, except Greg and…someone else. She was actually laughing, really laughing, no just those half smiles she gave to her co- workers and the other random people in her life.

"I like seeing this side of you, Sara," said Greg as they lined up for candy apples, "You should bring it to the lab more often."

"This attitude at death really doesn't mix," she told him after ordering a caramel apple while Greg went for a candy one.

"Yeah, but I like it," Greg told her, after he had paid without Sara noticing.

"What attitude do I bring to the lab, Greg?" Sara asked after they had left New York New York. They were now crossing a bridge to get fresh air before they parted ways.

Greg took a thoughtful bite off his candy apple.

"You're the criminalist. Sharp, Focused and Precise, and yet you have a strong empathy for the victims. You throw your heart into every case and do everything in your power to solve it."

"And you had a crush on that side of me?" Sara asked, chewing off the caramel. She couldn't care less about the apple right now.

"Correction; I HAVE a crush on that side of you. And you know, seeing a different Sara Sidle makes me crush on her even more."

Sara looked intrigued, but didn't want to push it.

"We should go," she said, "shift starts in a few hours."

"Yeah," said Greg.

"I'll see you later," Sara said, hesitating just the slightest bit before leaning over to kiss Greg's cheek. Then she left without looking back. Greg touched his cheek, a little surprised, threw the rest of his candy apple in a nearby waste bin and headed back inside to get to his BMW.

Then he drove over to the Bellagio and went up to room 709.

He knocked on the door.

"Room Service for a Lady Macbeth," he said in the deepest voice he could muster.

"I didn't-oh!" Gabrielle exclaimed, opening the door.

Greg had put on his scariest face, and chased Gabrielle inside the hotel room, growling at her like a werewolf. She had screamed, but she was laughing at the same time. Greg caught her by the waist and the collapsed onto the bed, laughing like little kids.

"You ready to go?" Greg asked. Shift was starting in about an hour.

"Yeah," said Gabrielle, grabbing her purse and her keycard. Then they went out of the hotel room.

"So," said Gabrielle, "today, I'll meet the people of the infamous Las Vegas Crime Lab. You think I'll meet Sara Sidle too?"  
Greg gave her a look. She knew of his crush on Sara, and she always teased him about it. Even she knew she was out of his league.

"How are you guys, anyway?" Gabrielle asked.

Then Greg started to tell her about the past few days he and Sara have spent together, the rides, the food, starting form the locker room all the way to this afternoon's kiss.

"Wow," Gabrielle commented.

"Is that all you can say?" Greg asked, "this is HUGE!"

"No, it's not," Gabrielle opposed, "It's a kiss on the cheek. Everyone kisses everyone on the cheek."

"Not Sara Sidle," Greg pointed out.

"Oh, so you know her that well. I thought you said she has this whole different side that you've never seen before."

Greg took a minute to consider this.

"You're a downer, you know that," Greg told her, scowling a little bit. Gabrielle laughed that fabulous little laugh that used to sound like music to Greg's ears, ringing and resonating.

Now it was just a laugh, and it was mocking him playfully.

"Sorry about being late," said Catherine, entering the room in a hurry. She looked windswept, but still she retained her gorgeousness and what she hoped was a boss-like poise when she walked in.

"I'm Catherine Willows, Swing Shift Supervisor," she said, shaking hands with her.

"Marie Andrews, CSI Paris, Level two," she replied, shaking hands.

Catherine banged a few files on her desk and laid eyes on the new CSI for the first time. She was already sitting down

"So," said Catherine, sitting down, "you were a CSI in San Francisco before you moved to Paris?"

Marie was a bit impressed that Catherine wasn't looking at her file as she said this. She nodded.

"Okay. You know what, I really haven't done this before, and as you can see, I have evidence to process, so if you could just wait for Warrick to come and show you around and bring you to your hotel, you can come start work tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," Marie replied, finding this strange. Catherine was really scaring her in a supervisor-like way.

When she left, Marie sighed. She waited again, and Warrick cam over to her.

"Gad to see you still in one piece," he told her.

"I thought she was going to eat me," she replied, "is she usually like this?"

"She just doesn't like new people," Warrick replied, pulling her up, "come on, I'll show you around."

They hadn't gone far when Marie tripped and fell right into Nick Stokes. She fell on top of him, both of them falling to the ground.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed, "Are you okay?"

Nick's eyes met hers, and something seemed to spark.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm okay," he replied, and the both stood up.

"That's a nice way to greet someone," Warrick joked, "Marie, this is Nick Stokes. Nick, this is Marie Andrews, she's going to work in Swing Shift with us."

They smiled at each other, forgetting to handshake.

"I guess I'll have another reason to come to work, then," he said in his deep Texan drawl, causing Marie to blush a little. Then he walked on. Once he was gone, Warrick laughed.

"That was just too slick," he told her. Marie pretended to roll her eyes and followed Warrick.

Las Vegas just got a little more interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

Parisian Life10/6/2005

A/N: So the number of reviews wasn't as I expected, both in what was written and the number of reviews. I blame that summary that I wrote. I really had no idea what to write back there. Must redo summary. Readers are strongly encouraged to both review and tell people about this story. Spread the Sara and Greg love!

Parisian Life

Chapter Three

It was about nine in the evening when Marie Andrews finally reached her hotel. Shift was over an hour ago, and Warrick had driven and checked her into the Paris hotel.

"This place looks…familiar," Marie said, making Warrick laugh as he carried her stuff up to the room.

"So, uh, do you want to go downstairs, grab some dinner?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," said Warrick, with a smile.

Then the two walked beside each other, Warrick in that saunter of his, and Marie walking casually beside him. They were chatting about Las Vegas, what they saw, what she could see and what he could show her. They kept walking and talking until they reached the Venetian, looking for a place to eat when…

"Ow!" Marie exclaimed as something hit her.

"Really, Nicky, can't you keep your hands off her?" Warrick asked, clearly amused at the situation. Nick apologized again to Marie, who accepted it with a smile.

"So, what are you doing here?" Warrick asked his co-worker, who looked good under the synthetic evening the hotel made.

"I'm actually on a date," he said, "I just went for a little air. You know, I

Should really head back there."

"Oh, yeah, um, Nick, is there a good Italian place around here? I'm craving linguine," Marie suddenly asked him.

"Yeah, just right down there. My date is actually there."

"Oh, cool, we can go together!" Marie exclaimed.

"We'll stay as far a possible though," Warrick assured him, issuing a nod from Marie. Then they started walking to the restaurant, with Nick and Warrick talking about basketball and Marie taking in the gorgeous hotel. When they reached the restaurant, Warrick and Marie stayed far enough that Nick could barely see them. They had an excellent dinner, and now they were going to the Cheesecake Factory, the perfect end to the perfect evening.

When Sara walked into the lab to start shift, she had no idea what to expect, from both her cases and Greg. Ever since Sophia started working with them at Graveyard, Grissom would usually take her with him, and she would be going around with Greg on cases, not that she minded. She loved Greg as company. He always had something to say, and sometimes, when the nights would get too long, he always had a way to perk her up.

Much like they way she had used to.

If there was one thing hanging out with Greg had taught her, it was not to dwell on what happened. But still, Sara couldn't help but miss her.

She was about to go find Greg when she passed by Grissom's office and spotted him there with someone. Someone besides Grissom, of course, but there was someone. A woman, a prettier, more attractive woman, smiling and laughing with him as he did with her. They were speaking in rapid French, which she couldn't catch on; French was always her weak spot.

Suddenly, she felt a little mad at Greg. No, not at Greg, that girl. She didn't like her. Sara was walking away, the green monster in her eyes, when she bumped into Grissom, who stumbled a little. It was actually a little cute.

"Sorry," she replied, walking past her Supervisor to get to the locker room. Sara really needed to calm down. She stayed in the locker room for a second before going to Grissom's office to get assignments. She gave no look to Greg or that girl, or Gabrielle, as she was named. Apparently, Miss Delacour was going to replace Mia in the lab for a while, and Greg had to show her the ropes, so tonight, Sara was stuck with Sophia, as Grissom claimed to have a lot of paperwork to do.

Not a fate worse than death, but still, it was pretty close.

The girls were about to leave with a trick roll off Blue Diamond Road when Greg caught up with Sara.

"Hey," he asked, looking a little nervous, "are we still on for breakfast at Denny's after shift? I thought Gabbie might like to come."

Sara shifted her weight and pretended to be thinking really hard.

"Sorry, Greg," she said, "I've been missing a few day's sleep lately, and I really want to catch up on some house chores."

A huge lie, of course, and Sara hoped Greg didn't sense it.

"Oh," he sounded really disappointed, "it's okay. Maybe next time?"

Over my dead body, Sara thought, but said otherwise. Sophia looked interested on what happened, but the look on Sara's face told her not to push it.

"When I was a kid, we would call this scene morbid," Marie told them, surveying the scene.

"We still do," Catherine replied snappily.

Clearly there was nothing more to say. The house was full of blood and blood spatter, which was Catherine's expertise, and the total body count was five. Six, if you included the dog. The entire Swing shift was called to the case, and seeing that time was of the essence, they began work immediately.

"Victims were identified by neighbors," spoke Detective Vega, coming into the house, "This is the Miller Family. Law and Paris Miller as the parents, and children are Lana, Chantelle and Orlando. The youngest, John, is missing."

Catherine thanked the detective and went to work, looking over the bodies as Nick shot a few photos. Warrick was doing the same, while Marie looked at the other side of the room.

"Detective," she said in a voice that was clear and somber, "has this room been cleared?" she asked, indicating with her mini Maglite a closed

Door leading somewhere.

"No," the detective replied, stepping over the bodies and the blood to go beside the CSI. Everyone drew out his or her guns. Tension filled the air as the detective paused before making a move.

Vega opened the door with a bang. Catherine was half expecting to find nothing. Marie was standing right behind Vega, and was the first to move when she saw something small trembling inside the closet. Clothes were all over the floor like a nest, and in the middle of the nest was a small child, about four years old, trembling with big blue eyes. He stretched his arms towards Marie, who immediately sat before him and held him in her arms. John Miller started to cry.

"No, it's okay," she told him, everything's going to be just fine."

Then she spotted something red in her hands. Crimson red. But she didn't panic. Marie didn't want to scare him. She turned to Vega and asked for Paramedics, to which he quickly obliged. Catherine quickly told the CSI's to snap photos and collect evidence as quickly as possible before paramedics arrive and contaminate the scene.

It was only then that she noticed tears falling from Marie's eyes.

"What's wrong?" Catherine asked her.

"He's dead," she said, her hold on the child unchanging as she did moments ago. Then she found herself sobbing.


	4. Chapter 4

Parisian Life 410/12/2005

Chapter Four

Sitting in the Tahoe, dressed in a jumper, Marie couldn't help but shiver as she saw the bodies of the family being taken away. After pronouncing that John Miller was indeed dead, Catherine took Marie's clothes as evidence. Once she had changed, Catherine sent her to the Tahoe to clear her head.

"Hey," Nick said, coming over to her with his tight black shirt and loose jeans. He looked cute under the sunny day; the only thing missing was a cowboy hat.

"Hey," Marie regarded him, "shouldn't you be working on the case?"  
"Cath asked me to check on you," he replied.

"I didn't think she was that kind of person," Marie answered sardonically, as if talking was a chore.

"She just doesn't like new people," Nick told her, "you okay?"  
Marie looked at her hands. They were clean now, but she could practically see the blood.

"I shouldn't have went inside the closet and hugged John," she said, "I should have just seen the blood and called paramedics, that way I wouldn't be sitting here, I wouldn't be wearing this stupid jumper, I wouldn't have contaminated evidence with my stupid tears and most probably, He could still be alive."

Nick stood beside her as she looked away.

"I think it was better that you were there for him. His death wasn't so lonely," Nick replied, "and as for the jumper, you look really cute in it."

Marie didn't say anything.

"What are you so afraid of?" Nick asked her.

"This," she said, "attachment. What if we don't catch the killer? What if we just let him slip though our hands? Then it would feel so bad that I did nothing for this kid who died in my arms."

"How about you forget that 'what if's and try and solve this case?" Nick asked, "I really think it would make you feel better. C'mon."

He pulled her into the house, and seeing him like that made Marie feel a little better.

Sara was singing. She liked singing; it kept her mind off some things, like lab tech from Paris who was spending the entire shift with Greg.

Jealous much, Sara?

She was looking over some of her evidence from the trick roll (which Sophia had to be pulled out of because she was called to another case with Grissom. Typical.), when she realized that none of her DNA evidence had come in yet, proving once again that putting Greg back in the lab all alone with a new female tech was a bad idea. Sara got up and walked to the DNA lab as casually as possible. She was trying to find a way to hold her hostility when she saw something that made her trip on air.

Greg was happily smooching Gabbie on the lips.

She coughed, and at once Greg and Gabrielle separated.

"Gabrielle," she said in one of her iciest voices, "that DNA in the trick roll done yet?"  
"I have them right here," the tech replied, as if nothing had happened, "here you go, Sara."

Sara thanked her, taking the folder and walking away without so much as a goodbye. She was walking back to her original place when she heard footsteps following her.

"Hodges," she said, knowing the sound of annoying people from miles away. She could tell when Ecklie was wandering the halls, smelling out trouble.

"You're good, Sara," he replied as they both stopped, "for a lady of few words, you are really good."

She stared at him in annoyance, wanting him to get a move on with what he was going to tell her.

"I saw Greg kissing the new lab tech," he said, "really sweet stuff."

"This is the kind of thing that I don't want all over my DNA evidence," she said, walking away from him. She was about to bang the door behind her, but then she remembered that there was no door, so she just slammed the folder on the table.

Her work was the only thing in this life that was simple, she realized. Forensics had always been her life, and there was nothing that could take her away from that, except for that one year dream she had to be part of the Secret Service and guard the president's daughter, but besides that, she was always going to be a CSI, no matter who left her, who didn't want to take the chance with her or those who just really hurt her.

Sara didn't look up form her evidence, working on it like this writer is hacking madly onto the computer.

The green monster of jealousy was grinning madly at his success, she knew it.

The start of the Graveyard shift was looming near, but still the Miller family murder was still difficult. The family was shot with a gun used at a previous robbery, unregistered, of course, and apparently, the person was still in jail at the time of the crime. They would have gone to interview various people in the Miller lives, but it was already late in the evening, nobody would receive them in a good light, much less cooperate. There was an unknown blood sample in the trashed house, and they had yet to know if it was something relevant, even if they had nothing to compare it to. Yet.

So the Swing shift decided that since all the evidence that needed processing was already sent, and most of the evidence could take long time before anything kicked out, they could go home and rest for a few hours.

Warrick was waiting for Marie at the door as she went into the locker room to grab her bag. She was taking such a long time that Warrick asked Catherine to check on her. The Supervisor found the CSI inside the locker room, hugging her knees, just sitting there on the bench. Catherine went over beside her.

"If you were put in Graveyard," Catherine began, "Grissom would have told you that mixing personal stuff in a case was bad, blah, blah, blah. Newsflash: You're not in the Graveyard shift. I'm your Supervisor, like it or not, and here's what I want you to know. John was lucky to have died in the arms of someone who cared."

Catherine saw Maria look a little better, and the Supervisor told her that Warrick was waiting for her outside. She asked for a little more time, which the Supervisor kindly understood. Marie closed her locker and wiped away her tears.

She was going to solve this goddamn case.

She had just left the locker room when someone caught her eye. She looked in that direction and saw Greg Sanders looking at her too. Marie looked away and met up with Warrick at the exit.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"I'm getting over it," she replied, "dinner is my treat tonight?"  
"As long as I pay for dessert," he replied, and they walked away.

That was strange. Greg could have sworn that he saw….based from what Sara had told him about her she…could it be possible?

"I didn't know she worked here too," Gabrielle said, as she and Greg settled into the DNA lab. Shift had started a while ago, and only now were they going to start work.

"Who?" Greg asked her as Sara's DNA results printed.

"Marie Andrews worked in the Crime Lab back in Paris," Gabbie replied, compiling the results in a folder, "I was a tech, she was a CSI."

Greg looked back in the direction that he saw her. Was it actually possible? She was here?  
"Hey," said Gabbie, "do you still remember how the French greet each other?"

"Yeah, like this," he replied, placing his lips over Gabrielle's in a kiss. But what he didn't think was that the Americans have a different interpretation of things like that, especially to Sara Sidle.

Upon hearing that cough of hers, he knew he was dead.


	5. Chapter 5

Parisian Life 516/01/2006 05:05:00

Parisian Life

Chapter Five

"So, I'll pick you up before shift?" Warrick asked as he led Marie to her hotel room door.

"Of course," Marie replied, smiling a little, "I'll see you tomorrow night, Rick."

"I'll be seeing you," he replied, and sauntered (yup. That's how I describe Warrick's sexy walk) away. After one last wave, Marie closed the door and went inside her hotel room. Turning the television on to an episode of Gilmore Girls (love that show), Marie glared at it for a while when a news flash came on.

"-the Miller family was brutally murdered.."

Marie gasped. How could they have that so quickly? She couldn't keep her eyes off the screen as it showed the bodies of each family member being taken from the house. Her eyes filled with tears as she saw the coroner take John Miller's small body away. Just as he was about to be taken away, the camera zoomed in on someone standing at the doorway of the house.

There she was, on live TV, in near tears, with Nick standing by her, his hand on her shoulder. Just before tears could escape, her cellphone rang.

"Hello?" she asked, sniffling a bit, trying to hold back tears as an image of John Miller came into her mind. It was haunting her now.

"Open your window and take a deep breath," the person on the other end said, something that Marie considered a good idea.

"You okay?" Asked the voice. She knew who this was.

"I'm fine, Nick. Just…sad. We haven't solved this case."

They started to talk, the kind of talk that was heartfelt and light, just what she needed. And before she hung up, she thanked Nick and said goodbye. Marie closed the TV and looked out the window, watching the Bellagio fountains from her hotel room.

_That was typical. Typical of Greg to kiss the new girl, Gabrielle what's_

_her-name. Ugh, I hate new people. I actually thought Greg wasn't like that. I was such an idiot to think…to think what? That he and I could-um…that's not the point. I hate Greg. _

As she thought all this, Sara found herself practically putting a hole through her plate with her fork. She stopped eating and decided to watch TV instead. Gilmore Girls was on. She hadn't watched this show in awhile. Rory and Jess were together when suddenly, her phone started to ring as a commercial break came on.

"Hello?" she asked, as a news flash came on about a family murder.

"Sara, it's Greg. About what you saw with me and Gabbie in the lab…"

"Greg," she said in a slightly annoyed tone, "I'm watching the news. Can what happened between you and Gabrielle wait until later?"

"But I wasn't going to talk about that," he argued, " I saw someone before you walked away-"  
"Oh my God," said Sara as she saw something on TV.

"What is it?" Greg asked urgently.

"Greg, she's here. Marie…she's here."

"That was what I wanted to tell you-"

"You knew? And you didn't think to tell me?"  
"Well, I figured you would be mad after that smack with Gabbie,"  
"Please stop saying that name. And what's a smack?"

"Smack, like a split second kiss. That 's how the French greet each other."

"Greg, I am not in the mood for a lie right now," Sara said, brooding. But it was a possible answer, the smack thing.

"I'm not lying," he said, "ask Marie. She should know something about that. I'll see you later."

"Yeah," Sara replied and hung up.

When Warrick and Marie stepped into the lab for Swing Shift, she was in better spirits. She and Catherine even exchanged very small smiles as they assembled in the lab to start working on the case. While Catherine and Warrick worked on the evidence, Nick and Marie drove to the Miller's neighborhood to interview the neighbors. With Brass at their heels, Nick and Marie talked to their neighbors, asking if they saw anything suspicious, how well they knew the family. They were on the way back to the lab, riding in Nick's Tahoe when he told her something he had found out from the interview.

"They don't know a John Miller."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, they never saw him until last night."  
It was quite a coincidence that the Beatles said 'very strange' as they were listening to Penny Lane.

Sara didn't have the heart to talk to Greg later that day. She didn't really know why, but she felt she couldn't talk to him right now. And Greg, now knowing Sara better, could see that the invisible wall that kept them apart a few weeks ago was back, and that hurt him a little bit. The fact that Gabbie was starting to annoy him about it wasn't helping any.

"Greg, do something," she told him one day as they stood in the DNA lab, processing evidence, talking. Actually, it was more of Gabbie's talking and Greg's sulking.

"What do you mean, do something?" he answered back curtly, a little pissed. He was partly blaming Gabbie for this. She, of course, knew this, and this was reason for her to keep annoying him.

"About Sara. The two of you look terrible," she commented, indicating to the lab across the hall, where Sara was glaring frustratedly at the computer, looking ready to crash it any second. Greg was just about to go to her when he saw somebody enter the lab.

"Maybe that can fix it," he heard himself say to Gabbie.

"I don't think there's anything to fix, Greggo. We should get back to work."

"Yeah, maybe," said Greg, turning back to the evidence, watching Gabbie's every move, supervising her. He couldn't help but steal glances at the lab across the room, causing Gabbie to smile. Greg and Sara were so perfect for each other, they just couldn't see it.

On her way to the parking lot to catch a cab (Warrick had gone on court duty), Marie saw Nick leaning by his Tahoe, looking incredibly gorgeous, waiting for someone.

"Waiting for someone, cowboy?" she asked him, putting his floppy cowboy hat on his head. He had left it with her earlier that morning.

"I was actually waiting for you, princess," he said with a smile, "how about a homemade breakfast?"

"I would love that, Mr. Stokes," she said, "lead the way."

Nick grinned and put his hat on her head. Just before being escorted in the car, Marie gave Sara a wink, the two of them laughing as Nick got in on his side. Sara smiled to herself and went back inside.

End Chapter Five

In dire need of reviews and ideas. Thank you!


	6. Chapter 6

Just watched CSI again. :D

Parisian Life

Chapter Six

Sara glared at her computer, using all her mental powers to keep herself from whacking her hand on the screen. Although she had closed the useless door already, she could still hear the stream of laughter from the lab across the hall.

Don't those two ever stop laughing? God!

Sara rolled her eyes and shut them, trying to put off her headache. Suddenly, she heard someone whistle to her. Turning around, Sara looked at the person standing by the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, a cat ate the canary grin on her pretty face.

"_Où avez-vous été toute ma vie, ma jolie dame ? " _she asked Sara, who was frowning at her, not saying a word. The woman sighed and walked inside.

" Sara. Come on. We've talked about this, remember, five years ago in Union Square? The cheesecakes? Macy's?"

Remember? of course Sara remembered.

o0o0o0o0

Five years ago…

Sara tossed her curly brown hair to the side, sitting on the stairs, facing Macy's. Marie, who looked a little younger with her shoulder-length hair, was walking towards Sara with two boxes from the Cheesecake Factory. The two sat together, Marie passing her a box, the two of them starting on their cheesecakes quietly.

"I want to tell you something," Marie suddenly asked. Sara looked at her curiously, as if asking her what it was.

"I got…uhm…offered a transfer," she said, shoving a bit of cheesecake in her mouth, "In Paris. And I took it."

"What?" Sara asked, more of angry than surprised.

"Sara-"

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Well, I'm telling you right now, aren't I?"

"That's not the point. You're going. To leave me. Here. Alone."

"And you. Accepted. An offer. In Vegas."

The two just stared at each other, seething anger on their faces.

And we haven't seen each other until now.

o0o0o0o0o

"That was barely a conversation, Marie," Sara said, turning off the computer.

"Look, Sara, I'm sorry it had to happen. But the thing is, you and I are back here, and I think that happened for a reason," Marie pointed out.

"I don't believe in fate. And neither did you. And how did you know that I was here?"

"I saw you, of course. Seems I'm not the only Frenchwoman here in Vegas."

"What, Gabrielle?" Sara asked, looking a bit more angry.

"Yeah. Listen, I was just going to go over to the hotel, and I wondered if you wanted to walk with me outside."

O0o0o0o0o

Greg watched as Sara and Marie walk out of the lab together, small smiles on their faces. Beside him, Gabbie snorted again.

"Will you stop doing that? It's getting annoying." Greg said as he pulled out a printed sheet with DNA evidence and put it in a folder.

"Well, you keep looking! Why don't you just talk to her? It's not as if you haven't done that before."

"Will you just shut up and work?"

"_La mère de ciel, que dois-je faire et dois le faire évident à vous les deux ?"_ Gabrielle muttered under her breath and smiling to herself.

"What did you say?" Greg asked, looking at her.

"I'm going to the bathroom."

O0o0o0o0o

"So, you've met Sara?" Nick asked Marie as they ate breakfast in his car. She nodded.

"We go awhile back," she simply replied, and the two were quiet for a moment.

"Tell me something I don't know," Nick suddenly asked her. Marie put down her food to look at her new friend.

"Why should I?"

"Entertain me, I just finished a long shift," he told her. Marie smiled.

"Okay. Let's see…I'm not French. I was born and raised in San Francisco, and transferred to France."

"I knew that."

"Gossip with Warrick much, Nick? You girl," Marie teased. Nick just rolled his eyes.

"You haven't told me something I don't know yet."

"I've never been to Las Vegas before?"

Nick smiled. She was really cute. Looking over at the time, Nick offered her a ride back to the hotel.

"Yes, thank you Nick," she said, putting the cowboy hat back on the Texan head.

O0o0o0o0o0o

After entering her purple and gold apartment, Sara settled herself in the couch, with a beer in her hands. She was miserable, and she really didn't know why. Oh right. Greg.

Why was she even thinking about Greg? The last time she was asked, she liked Grissom, the opposite of Greg Sanders.

Did she just say that? She had already told herself not to think about Grissom and that way, and she didn't want to even start to fathom about Greg in that way. Did this mean that she liked him? God, this was confusing.

But in the weeks before Gabrielle and Marie came to the lab, she found herself loving the time she spent with Greg, and she found herself motivated, happy.

And all it took to take that away was a green monster.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o

After dropping Marie off at her hotel room, Nick at once drove home, feeling like he had just run a marathon. It was a good feeling. Tiredness as at the back of his mind, but he was happy.

And he really didn't know why.

Popping in the Alicia Keys CD Marie had left in his car, Nick settled in his couch with a beer himself, listening to the music she had so highly recommended. He found himself smiling.

Okay, so he liked her. There was nothing wrong with that. Not like he was going to do anything about it.

O0o0o0o0o0oo0o

Before she left the lab, Catherine took a peek over at Grissom's office to see if he was there. He was indeed, looking over some paperwork as Andrea Bocelli played in the background. He looked up and saw Catherine smiling at him.

"Busy night?" she asked him, cocking her head to the side as Grissom let her into his office.

"Kinda. Were you just about to head home?" Grissom asked her, putting down his glasses on his desk.

"Yeah. I was just checking on you. Do you need any help with something?" she asked him as she sat down in front of him. She looked like his total opposite, her sunny blonde demeanor and color contrasting his grey hair and dark clothes. It was a bit strange, seeing as they had been getting closer to each other for the past month now.

"No, I'll be alright," he told her, lowering the music. Catherine smiled and got up, placing a small kiss on his lips before she walked out the door.

"I'll see you," she said to him almost seductively. Grissom only smiled back at her before letting her fully walk away.

O0o0o0o0

After she took a shower, Gabrielle walked into her room dressed in a bathrobe, barefoot. She took her cell phone off her desk and dialed a number, ordering a pizza. It was much cheaper to have it delivered to her hotel room.

"Any preference?" she asked someone who was sitting in the couch of the suite. The guy in the couch was watching One Tree Hill (another favorite) and turned his head to face Gabrielle, seemingly unfazed at the fact that she was simply wearing a terry cloth robe.

"Pepperoni and mushroom with a lot of cheese."

Gabbie gave a single nod and turned to the phone.

"I would like a pizza with everything on it. Except maybe pepperoni. And mushroom. Barely any cheese, please."

Greg rolled his eyes and turned back to the television screen. Annoying him has become a habit of Gabbie's.

She sat next to him on the couch, drinking her softdrink with a straw. They watched the show in silence, waiting for it to finish before she pops 'Breakfast At Tiffany's' in the DVD player.

"Let's talk about Sara," Gabbie said.

"Shut up, Brooke's about to take off her clothes."

"Greg, come on, we can't keep avoiding this."

"Yes, we can. You've been here one week Gabbie."

"And you've been crushing on Sara for, I don't know, one...two…five years now? I want to see you with her, Fred Astaire. She makes you happy. I want you happy."

"But she's mad at me."

"When has that ever stopped you?" Gabbie asked him, almost surprised at him at that statement. Then she was struck with a realization. Why hadn't she seen it before?

"Oh my gosh…you love her!"

Greg gaped at her an simply stared, surprised at that notion. He blinked and looked at her.

"You do!" Gabrielle exclaimed, almost shrieking, "you love Sara!"

Greg was smiling uncontrollably. He looked so adorable with that goofy, shy grin on his face and he was blushing.

"I didn't say I did."

"But you didn't say you didn't either! You do, you love her! Oh Hojem, this is just too cute! You're in love with Saara, you're in love with Saara…" Gabbie sang. The two were acting like children, like they always did.

_Okay, so I love her. But that doesn't mean anything has to change, does it?_

_O0o00o0o0_

Singing along to her RENT Soundtrack, Marie opened her door to find him standing at her doorway, flowers in his hands and an adorable smile on his face.

"Hi, do I know you?" she asked playfully. He just laughed and gave her the flowers, which she put in a vase and set on the coffee table.

"So you like RENT, huh?" he asked her as they stepped inside the hotel suite.

"I saw it when I was sixteen and fell in love with it ever since. I simply died when the movie came out," she told him, smiling as her favorite song, "I'll Cover You" came on. She gave the flowers an appreciative sniff before she invited him inside with her. They started talking a little, about everything and anything. She brought out the wine and they got to more talking. He loved the way she laughed and spoke. She loved the way he always smiled at her, the way he was so gentlemanly towards her. He made her feel special, and she liked that very much.

"So," he finally said, after a few more moments of comfortable silence, "tell me something **I **don't know."

She was still smiling as she leaned over and gave his lips a small kiss, pulling away only to kiss Nick neatly on his nose, making me laugh in that deep, Texan drawl of his she liked so much.

_So with a thousand sweet kisses, _

_I'll cover you. _

_O0o0o0o0o0o_

"I am a total genius! I figured this out, all by myself! And Greg...oh, can I be a bridesmaid? I know Sara doesn't like me all that much but please, can I?"

"Woah, Gabbie, you are getting way ahead of yourself there. I do not love Sara Sidle."

This only made her laugh even more.

"You're blushing, you turd! Admit it, you love her!"

Greg only smiled at her. One Tree Hill had just ended, and Gabbie's dark curls were bouncing excitedly.

O0o0o0o0o0

"I just needed someone to talk to, and you were the first number I dialed. Sorry."

"No! It's totally okay, Sara, talk to me."

"Nick, come on, I can't talk to you about this…"

"Okay, so maybe you can't. But if you really want talk to someone, Marie's just here."

"Please."

Nick passed the phone to Marie, whose dark black hair was shimmering in the moonlight. Her bare skin was too. Nick simply watched her as she talked softly to Sara, smiling to herself as she did.

She looked beautiful.

End Chapter Six


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